A Band Disaster
by PianoGirlForLife
Summary: This is a one shot but with three parts. The first one happened to me.


**A/N: Hey guys. So if you know Monkeygirltoria, you will know that she posted a story where a blind girl gets helped out by Carlisle. Well, I'm that girl. The first story will be what actually happened; the next will be my POV with Carlisle; and the last will be Carlisle's POV. Have fun.**

**And go check out Monkeygirltoria's "Stories with Carlisle Cullen."**

* * *

MY POV

I was so happy on the bus. I was listening to the drummers singing. It was funny when my band director, Mr. Sanders, told them to "shut up."

We got to the band site and got off the bus. I had started to get a small stomach ache, so crouched down, hoping it would pass. Then I felt tired and weak. When it was time for us to fall in to position, I couldn't stand. My friend, Tori, came and had to grab my arms to get me to my feet.

"Come on." she said. "MARISSA, you have to go."

I heard her say to one of my other friends that I looked pale.

"Mr. Sanders!" she called"

We started to walk towards Sanders. I felt like I was going to throw up. I kept drawing in a breath, as if I were going to puke.

"O no you don't." Tori said to me. She was holding my arm, trying to support me. "Mr. Sanders!" she screamed. "Stop helping and get over here!"

Mr. Sanders came over and took my arm a little too hard. Guess it looked like I was going to fall over or something.

"What's wrong?" he said. I could hear either panic or concern in his voice. Probably both.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up." I said.

We got to a golf cart and I sat on the back. Mr. Hermon, my school's vice principal, gave me a bottle of water and told me to drink something, but I only drank a few sips. I lay down on the back of the cart. Soon, I heard some people coming towards us.

I heard Mr Hermon and another teacher talking, and then an ambulance truck pulling up.

"What's your name?" one man asked me.

"Marissa Masen." I said, and spelled my last name.

"She's legally blind." I heard someone say after a few seconds. I think it was Mr. Hermon.

I covered my mouth suddenly and pointed to it. I had thrown up.

"Here." one EMT said. "On the side of the cart."

He helped me lean over and I threw up twice. It was disgusting. I lay back down, feeling awful.

The EMTs took my blood pressure. Then they had me stand up. One man had to support me. I was soon put on a gurney and rolled to the ambulance. I raised my hand, waving to the band.

"Bye." I said, knowing they wouldn't hear.

"Feel better Marissa!" Sanders called.

"Not likely." I said, but smiled in spite of myself.

When I was in the ambulance, a man came around and pricked me with a needle. I gritted my teeth, but didn't say anything. It hurt.

When we got to the hospital, I was wheeled into a room and asked stupid questions.

"Do you take drugs?"

"Are you allergic to any medicines?"

"Do you smoke, or drink?"

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

I stared at the questioner on that last question, not even bothering to answer.

They drew some blood from my IV and made me take some disgusting medicine. When I was finally aloud to leave, I was told not to eat for 12 hours. Ugh. The next day, I ate my breakfast in five minutes tops.

* * *

ME with CARLISLE

I felt awful, like I was going to be sick. It was not a pleasant feeling, especially when you were about to perform in a parade. Not that I knew the music, but still.

I leaned against the wall. I had a stomachache, so was crouched down, hoping it would pass. It didn't.

I felt hot, not feverish, just hot in general. The uniforms we had to wear were ridiculous when you were wearing jeans and in the heat.

I was listening to the conversations around me. I couldn't help my super hearing.

I tried to stand up, but ended up back on the floor. I didn't care about getting my uniform dirty any more. I felt awful, and the uniform was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

I heard everyone starting to line up. Great. Now I had to get up and act like I felt fine. Good thing I could act.

"Come on Marissa." my best friend, Tori, said, "time to go."

"I don't wanna." I said in a sort of groan.

"We have to go." Tori said, grabbing my arms and pulling me to my feet.

I heard someone say I looked pale. That didn't really surprise me.

I started to walk with Tori. I felt like I was going to throw up. I kept heaving, expecting something to come out. Nothing did.

"No. Don't throw up." Tori said.

I just heaved again.

Tori groaned.

"Mr. Sanders!" she yelled. "Stop helping the band and get over here, please!"

Apparently he had heard, because he was quickly by me, grabbing my arm, and leading me to a golf cart.

Mr. Hermon, one of the school's vice principals was there. He gave me a water bottle, telling me to drink something.

I took the bottle and drank a few sips. I laid down on the back of the cart.

I suddenly felt a very cold hand on my forehead. It was cold, but it felt nice.

"She's a little clammy." I heard someone say near me. His voice was unfamiliar to me, and it sounded nice to listen to.

"We called an ambulance." Mr. Hermon said, just as I heard some more people approaching.

I lay still, feeling ill. I threw up in my mouth. I sat up quickly.

"What's wrong?" another person asked.

I pointed to my mouth.

"Here," the EMT said, "on the side of the cart."

I leaned over and threw up twice. It was disgusting. I groaned and lay back on the cart.

"We're going to put some monitors on you." the EMT said.

"What is your name?" another EMT asked me.

"Marissa." I said, weakly.

"And your last name?"

"Masen." I said, and spelled it for him.

"She's legally blind." said the first voice I had heard.

"Glad someone knows that." I said, and heard them all laughed.

"I'm going to prick your finger." an EMT said to me. "It won't hurt a lot. One... two... three."

I thought it was very kind of the man to count before he pricked me with the needle. I felt the prick in my index finger, on my left hand. It didn't really hurt that bad.

They took my blood pressure, when I was lying down.

"I need you to stand for me please." the EMT said.

"I sat up slowly and swung my legs off the cart. I struggled to my feet, swaying. I felt hands catch me and steady me. I leaned back, unable to stand up straight. The set of cold hands caught me and supported me, while the EMT took my blood pressure.

I sank back on to the cart, as one EMT said to the other, "Let's get her on the gurney." Dr. Cullen, would you like to ride with her?"

"Sure." I heard the first man say. Well, now I knew his name. Dr. Cullen.

The EMT and the doctor helped me on to the gurney and pushed me towards the ambulance. I raised my hand and waved to the band.

"Feel better Marissa." Mr. Sanders called.

I smiled a little and said, "Not likely."

"You will." Dr. Cullen said, chuckling quietly.

I was wheeled and loaded in to the ambulance. The two EMTs climbed in to the front, while Dr. Cullen sat with me in the back. He took my hand gently and said, "How do you feel? Do you feel like you're going to throw up again?"

"No." I said.

A bag was pressed in to my hands and Dr. Cullen said, "I need you to let me know if you're going to throw up again. That way I can raise your head."

"Ok." I said.

"Do you feel nauseous?" Dr. Cullen asked.

"No," I said, "but I have a stomach ache."

I touched a spot near the middle of my stomach.

I felt the doctor's hand lightly pressing down on my stomach. His hands were cold, but everything felt cold to me now.

"Does that hurt?" the doctor asked me.

"No." I said.

I heard some things being moved around. I wondered what Dr. Cullen was doing, but didn't have to wait long to find out what he was doing.

"Marissa." Dr. Cullen said. "I need to give you an IV."

I cringed. I hated needles with a passion.

"I know." the doctor said. He sounded sympathetic.

I felt the doctor's cool hand on my arm.

"I'm going to put the needle in now." he said, gently. "Relax your arm. One... two... three."

I hissed and drew in a breath, gritting my teeth, as I felt the needle pierce my skin.

The needle was tapped in to place and Dr. Cullen said, "Good job Marissa. You handled that well."

I gave him a look and I heard him chuckle to himself. Seriously why are my looks so funny?

We arrived at the hospital, and I was unloaded and taken in to a room. I lay on the hospital bed and waited for something to happen.

I was asked the basic questions.

Did I take any medication? Was I allergic to any medication. Did I smoke, drink, or do drugs of any kind? Was I pregnant?

I just stared at the doctor and frowned.

"Sorry." he said. "I had to ask. It's the standard procedure."

"I know," I said, "but still. It's kind of ridiculous though. Couldn't someone just lie?"

I swear I heard him reply quietly, "It's very hard to fool me."

"That good of a doctor?" I said, smiling.

"You could say that." he replied.

"O, but I already did." I said, grinning.

My doctor chuckled. "You're quite amusing." he said, checking my IV.

"I forgot your name." I said to my doctor. "What was it again?"

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen," he replied, "but you may call me Carlisle, if you'd like."

"Thank you so much for helping me out today, Carlisle." I said. "I really appreciate it. Not many people would do such a thing."

"Well, I am a doctor." Carlisle said. "And I'm not exactly most people."

"Well thank you so much." I said.

"Any time." Carlisle said, squeezing my hand gently.

* * *

CARLISLE's POV

I heard the sound of many kids a little ways down from the hospital. I was on break, so decided to check out the source.

I strolled casually out the front doors and followed the sound. It was a large group of kids, getting ready to play. There was a parade today and this must be the high school band.

I looked around at the kids and smiled. So talented. They were able to play an instrument.

As I looked around, I focused on a small group of kids by the wall. One had a long, white cane in her hand. I knew she was blind.

She was crouched on the ground, a little pale. I stood and watched her friends interact with the girl.

"Marissa." one said. "You look like you're going to be sick. Are you ok?"

"What do you think?" the girl said.

"You must feel bad." her friend said.

The girl nodded.

"Band! Fall in!" someone yelled. It must be the band director. I glanced at his name tag. Mr. Sanders.

"Come on Marissa." the girl's friend said. "Time to go."

The girl groaned and struggled to stand. Her friend grabbed both her arms and helped her up. Marissa stumbled forward. Her friend looked panicked.

"Mr. Sanders!" she called. "We need you."

Mr. Sanders walked slowly over, but once he saw how pale Marissa looked, he sped up and grabbed her arm, supporting her. He led her to a nearby golf cart and made her sit down. A bottle of water was pressed in to her hands. She drank a few small sips, then set it down.

She lay down on the back of the cart, looking pale and ill. She looked like she was going to pass out.

An ambulance arrived and two men stepped out, and rushed over to Marissa.

"Are you a doctor?" one of them asked me.

"Yes." I said, nodding.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course." I said, rushing over to where the other EMT was taking Marissa's information and blood pressure.

"Can you stand for me?" he said gently.

Marissa groaned and shook her head.

"Here." he said. "We'll help you stand."

Marissa sat up and swung her feet off the golf cart. The EMT took one of her arms, looking at me for help.

I nodded and took Marissa's other arm, helping her stand up. She looked weak and the EMT and I supported her while the other man took her blood pressure.  
Marissa sank back down on to the golf cart. She sat up, holding her mouth.

"What is it?" the EMT said to Marissa, then glanced at her covered mouth.

"O," he said in realization, "here. On the side of the cart."

He helped her lean over and Marissa threw up once, then a few dry heaves. She sank back on the cart, with a groan.

"Let's get her on the gurney." the EMT holding Marissa's arm said to me.

The other helper pushed the gurney towards us. I took Marissa's arm and guided her to the bed, helping her up, because she seemed so weak.

She lay back, and turned, if possible, paler. She was soon strapped in and loaded in to the ambulance. Before she was loaded in, the band director called, "Feel better Marissa." He had a worried look on his face. I wouldn't blame him.

"I'll ride with her in the back." I said.

The EMT's nodded and got in the front. I slid in beside Marissa and sat down on the seat in the back.

"Marissa?" I said. "I am a doctor. I work at the hospital here. How do you feel right now? Do you feel naushis? Do you feel like your going to throw up again? Here, take this bag and let me know if you need to throw up again, so I can raise your head."

"Ok." Marissa said. "I don't think I'm going to throw up any more, but my stomach hurts."

I nodded and took Marissa's hand, squeezing it gently. "Marissa." I said. "I may need to start an IV in your arm. Where does your stomach hurt? Can you point to it for me?"

She raised her hand and touched a spot near the middle of her stomach.

I reached out and lightly pressed down on the spot. "Does that hurt?" I said. "Make it worse?"

"No." Marissa said. "It doesn't hurt. Do I still have to get an IV?"

"Unfortunately," I said, "yes."

Marissa groaned.

I got a needle and cleaning alcohol. I took Marissa's arm and examined the veins in the hand, wiping it with the wipes.

"Is the needle going to go in my hand?" Marissa asked me.

"Possibly." I said, wiping the arm just inside the elbow.

Marissa whimpered. She didn't move her arm from my hands, so that was good.

I took the needle and poised it over Marissa's arm. "I'm going to stick the needle in now." I said. "One, two, three. Relax your arm." I put the needle in, and watched as Marissa gritted her teeth, but made no sound.

"Good job Marissa." I said, once the needle was in and I had taped it into place.

She looked at me, as if I had committed a crime.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot and the EMT's stepped out to the back to unload Marissa. I went ahead of them and into the hospital to get a room ready for her.

The EMTs followed and helped get Marissa on to the bed, then left with the gurney.

I grabbed my clipboard and papers and walked over to Marissa.

"Ok Marissa." I said. "I need to ask you some questions. Are you allergic to any medications?"

She shook her head.

"Do you take any medications?"

She shook her head once more.

"Do you smoke, drink, or do drugs?"

She just looked at me. I chuckled.

"I had to ask." I said. "Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

She stared hard at me, eyebrows raised.

"I'll take that as a no." I said, chuckling and putting my clipboard down.

Marissa laughed a little.

"I'm going to draw some blood from your IV," I said. "It won't hurt at all."

Marissa nodded. "Good." she said.

I drew some blood from Marissa's IV and said, "I will be right back Marissa. I'm just going to take this to the lab. Just relax."

I walked out swiftly and once I had taken the blood to the lab, I returned to Marissa's room with a cup of mixed medicines. "Marissa." I said. "I need you to sit up and take this. It will help with your stomach ache."

Marissa struggled to sit up. I helped her, so she wouldn't jerk her IV. She held out her hand, and I put the cup of medicine in it.

She swallowed the medicine, making a face once it was down. She lay back down.

I walked into Marissa's room and checked on her IV. "Ready to go home?" I said to her.

She sat up and smiled. Her color had returned back to her face. She seemed much happier and calmer now that I had taken the IV out. She stood up and walked with me out to my car. Her parents were out of town and couldn't get her. I had said that I would make sure that she got home safe and sound, and that is what I did. I wonder what the family would say when I told them that I helped out a blind girl today.


End file.
